


Tales From The Grand Magister's Secret Archives

by shinyforce



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyforce/pseuds/shinyforce
Summary: A collection of short pieces from tumblr.





	1. Lor'themar/Rommath - A New Era

“Are you quite certain?”

Lor’themar’s voice is a rich, deep murmur against his ear, and at this moment Rommath has never been more certain of anything in his life.

“It is time,” he says, eyeing Lor’themar’s lips as he smooths his robes and Lor’themar adjusts his tunic, the embroidery as delicate as the kisses Rommath has been teasing him with in this alcove were not.

Lor’themar’s smile is boyish, shining with genuine delight. Rommath considers shoving him back against the wall and turning that smile into something entirely more salacious – but no, it really is time. They have hidden for long enough, almost wholly at Rommath’s behest, and he owes Lor’themar this. He owes Lor’themar so, so much more, but this at least is within his power to grant.

Holding his hand out, Rommath looks up at Lor’themar through lids lowered in a feline pleasure. Lor’themar’s hand is warm and strong, the ranger calluses much softened over the passing years; Rommath once despaired of Lor’themar’s Farstrider heritage, but he is proud of it now, thankful for the core of nobility and simplicity that has shaped this man into the regent-lord that saved the soul of Quel’thalas. 

He is proud to stand up with this man now, hand in hand, as they re-enter the ballroom just before the bells ring in the new year and a new era of the world. Tomorrow Lor’themar will step down as Regent Lord and pass the governance of the country to the re-formed Convocation of Silvermoon, made up of proven politicians and mages and rangers, all given equal weight regardless of noble status. Rommath will be one of them, his office of Grand Magister passed to his protege, carefully groomed for decades for the role. 

With the Void Lords defeated, it is time for the new generation to stand up. It is time for those who saw Quel’thalas through its darkest times to rest. And for Rommath, it will be Lor’themar’s arms he rests in, and this time in public, this time with the acknowledgement their relationship deserves. 

They have hidden all these years – the Regent Lord could not be involved with his Grand Magister, especially not one who once made ruthless use of mind-control spells – but as they join the other couples on the dance floor, Rommath does not flinch when Lor’themar places a hand on his waist, does not flinch when Lor’themar pulls him against his chest. He raises his eyebrows in amusement at Aethas Sunreaver, who is gawking, and at Liadrin, who is not.

There is a growing whisper around them. Rommath relishes it.

_He is beautiful, and he is_ mine _._

There will be explanations to give, later, but these moments as they dance are theirs and theirs alone. And when the bells ring, when Lor’themar takes his face in both hands and kisses him with such fervour and intensity as to make his heart spin, Rommath feels free, truly free, for the very first time.


	2. Lor'themar/Rommath - Scandal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written after a discussion based on [this glorious art of a Lor'themar body pillow](http://shinyforce.tumblr.com/post/158708931706/ragnedart-dakimakura-with-lorthemar).

Rommath’s personal assistant was many things. He was quick, he was skilled, he was quiet, and he was handsome in a manner that did not outshine his employer. His most vital characteristic, however, was his discretion, which ensured that Rommath’s private life remained exactly that. His second most vital characteristic was his unbreakable poker face.

“Sir, I’ve taken the liberty of unpacking your most recent purchases. They’re awaiting you in the master bedroom.”

Rommath did not remember making any recent purchases, and certainly not anything that would belong in his bedroom, but he would never make himself appear fallible before his staff. “Thank you, Duskwither.” He dismissed the man and forced himself not to bound up the grand, twisting staircase, instead taking relaxed, measured steps that belied his curiosity.

The plush carpet beneath his feet seemed to go on forever as he made his way to his bedchamber. Was it a mistake? Perhaps it was a present? Perhaps from an admirer? He hoped… but no, no, banish the fantasies.

He opened the door. Consternation twisted over his face and then was smoothed away. He closed the door.

Twenty body pillows of Prime Minister Theron were staring at him lasciviously. Some laid out on the four-poster bed, others propped up against the frame as though they were waiting for him, shirtless and inviting.

Another drunken purchase in the small hours of the morning, evidently.

_I should cut up my credit card._

But he knew that he wouldn’t. Just as he knew that he would not be returning these pillows. Not immediately.

~*~

An hour later he came back to himself, shirtless and messy-haired. If the public were to learn that the Deputy Prime Minister had been rolling around with twenty body pillows of PM Theron there would be a scandal… but Duskwither was paid a small fortune quite deliberately. There had been no rolling. There had been no cuddling. There had been no pillows at all, in fact.

“I shall have these returned for you, sir. Evidently somebody pranked your credit card.”

“Evidently.”

Rommath paused. Considered. “Actually, Duskwither, send only nineteen back. I have a niece who would enjoy one.”

“Certainly sir.”

The lack of smirk, the deadpan manner – Duskwither was worth his weight in gold.


	3. Halduron/Lor'themar - Oh Mr Brightwing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt of "Halduron/Lor'themar, Regency AU".

Lor’themar has an impeccable riding seat. Halduron always pays very close attention to it: his tight breeches, the muscles that flex as they race laughing through the forest and out into the clearing that exists just for the two of them.

The day is hot – when they stop, Halduron throws his top hat at Lor’themar, who catches it deftly and threatens to throw it into the pond. “I shall throw  _you_  into the pond,” Halduron jests, shrugging off his topcoat and rolling up his sleeves, the pale golden hairs on his arms glinting in the dappled sunlight.

“I should very much like to see you try.” Lor’themar sizes him up with a shrewd eye, likewise shedding his coat and securing his horse to a tree.

Halduron, competitive, likes to keep track of their wrestling bouts. Lor’themar is stronger and heavier, but Halduron is  _fast_ , and was the best brawler of his regiment in the king’s army.

Today, neither of them wins. White linen shirts translucent, fawn breeches revealing, their tussle in the pond turns from grappling to grasping, hands and lips urgent and imperative.

“Mr Brightwing,” Lor’themar murmurs as they stride from the waters and fall to the grass together, shirts heavy and dripping as they shed them. “I do believe you planned to seduce me all along.”

“I, plan?” Halduron laughs against Lor’themar’s wide mouth. “Would you object if I had?”

Lor’themar reaches into Halduron’s breeches and squeezes. “Not at all. Stop talking and attend me, you cad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me at shinyforce.tumblr.com! <3


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